


I'm Not Ready To Let You Go Just Yet

by CarylDixonandGrimes (FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Deviates From Canon, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, My take on a scene from 7.10 before the detailed spoilers and dialog came out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN/pseuds/CarylDixonandGrimes
Summary: Based on filming spoilers and speculation for 7.10.  I started this before more detailed spoilers were released (with dialog!) for this episode.  If you don't like spoilery stuff, you might want to avoid this.In a nutshell, this is Daryl going to see Carol at her creepy little house.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This does not fit in line with 7.10, I know that after reading the dialog for these scenes. But I started this... I think before the mid-season premiere. It's not romantic, but it's not platonic either. It's that very VERY special relationship and bond that these two precious bebes have. I don't know if we'll ever get romantic with them, at this point, I just want them together in the sense that they talk, they interact, and share screentime. Caryl was my first TWD ship. It will always be my ship on this show. But then again I do ship a lot of ships. Crack ships too. Eyes my leaning tower of WIP's...
> 
> Anyway, I have no idea what the point is I was trying to make. Platonic Caryl is canon, will we get the romantic aspect of it? I hope so, but at the same time I'm not getting my hopes up just yet. But then again 7.10 may toss me right back into the fire and leave me with a thousand and one plot bunnies. That's not a terrible thing, I would welcome it! 
> 
> So here's my unbeta'd little oneshot.

When Morgan had told Daryl that Carol was no longer at the kingdom, he hesitated.  When Morgan explained further that Carol had left and was unlikely to come back, he flew into action.  That’s her, but that ain’t her, he thought to himself for the second time in his life.  For goodness sake, she was family, she’d been hurting since before that fateful day outside the Greene family barn.  With no immediate need from him, Rick all but shoved Daryl out the gates of the Kingdom, “Bring her home,” he had whispered in his ear.

Daryl shook his head. “She won’t, but not for lack of tryin’ on my part,” he had responded.  Carol had a habit of disappearing into herself when things got hard.  He might have had the chance to stop it, had he not lost his mind after… After Denise.  He regretted his decisions, but he learned that regrets get you nowhere.  If anything, there are a distraction from the real needs at hand, the things that need dealing with.  Like Carol.  If only he had just stopped, and… No, it wasn’t the time for that.  What’s done, is done.

Keeping to the relative safety of the treeline, he made it to the home that Morgan had described.  The overgrown lawn, the wrought iron fencing, and the windows all covered in blankets and sheets from the inside.  The only giveaway was the telltale smell of a small fire she had going in the fireplace.  He knocked softly on the door.  Receiving no response, he knocked again, just a little harder.

“Go away, Morgan!” he heard her voice call out from inside.  A sigh of relief passed his lips, and he knocked one last time.  He could almost see her rolling her eyes as she set a book down harshly against a table, and he could almost hear that exasperated sigh when she wanted to be left alone.  He was not prepared for the dirty look he received when she pulled back the poncho from the glass.  It melded from that frown, to a look of surprise, to a trembling lower lip as her brows bunched together and those dainty fingers moved to cover her mouth.  Her eyes welled with tears, and she looked down at the floor.

Daryl put his hand to the glass, pressing his palm and fingers flat against the cool pane.  He tapped a finger against it gently to get her attention, and she looked up at it.  A huff passed over her lips, but she raised her own trembling hand to meet his on the opposite side, moments later feeling his own warmth passing through that pane and into her hand.  He was always warm.  Like a damn furnace, even in the cold depths of winter he was always blazing to the touch, a comfort that many sought out on those nights they had all huddled together on the floor of the various houses they had stayed in. Nothing had changed.

He dipped his head slightly, to catch her eye.  Those springtime sky blue eyes that he adored so much.  She nodded, and chuckled softly to herself, turning the key in the lock and pulling the door open to allow him inside.  Leaning against the door, she spun the key in the lock again locking it behind him, and stayed there a moment, resting her head against the frame of the door.

“Morgan told you?” she asked, finally looking up at him. A slight shudder running through her frame at the intensity of the look he was giving her.

“Mm-hm,” he nodded.

“I needed a break, Daryl.  I needed time… Time to…,” she shook her head, frowning again.  “Come sit?” She held out a hand toward the small couch in the living room.

He sat on the edge of one cushion, and watched her walk around the small coffee table and take her seat on the opposite side.  Her clothes were different, she carried a certain tiredness in the way she walked.  A feeling of defeat, something he hadn’t seen on her since the quarry.  

“I’d have come sooner, if I had known…” He leaned his side against the back of the couch, his elbow resting on the top.  He drew up his knee laying his bent leg across the seat in front of him. 

“Why didn’t you?” Her question was honest, and held no judgment, just curiosity.

“Went off half-cocked… bad things happened.”

Her brow raised in query, but he shook his head in response.  “Guess I need some time to sort it out too.  A lot’s happened...” he offered, his voice trailing off as his mind flashed back to that night when Negan had used his bat against Glenn and Abraham; and the sharp intake of breath could not be avoided.  He felt her cool hand covering the fingers in his lap.

“You feel responsible?” 

“Mmm,” he nodded.  “You too, huh?” He asked, in reference to whatever it was that had been bothering her since after her time at the prison.

A soft smirk and nod, and she pulled her hand back.  She knew he would never ask her outright, he’d never press, but the question in his eyes was enough to have her turn away.  

Changing the subject, she added a mock cheer to her voice.  “So what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Just wanted to see ya.  Talk.  Or not talk… Feel ya out on some things if you felt up to strategizing…”

Carol cringed at that last word, her face blanching as she closed her eyes knowing that what he might be asking of her was most likely more than she could bear.

“Daryl, how many people have you killed?”

“I dunno… stop countin’ after 6.”

“Why?”

“Why’d I kill ‘em, or why’d I stop countin’?”

“Why did you kill them?”

“To protect you guys.  To protect myself… Ain’t like I did it for sport or nothin’. Why you askin’?”

She shook her head and a soft smile passed over her lips, “Is it worth it?”  

“If it means we still got our family whole, then hell yeah!  It is!” He insisted, his voice rising with the intensity of his response.

“Is that what we are?  Family?”

“Why you askin’?  You wanna know if you matter to me?  Wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.  We ain’t friends, we’re more than that.  Family ain’t the right word either, but I ain’t exactly the most eloquent speaker and I sure as fuck don’t carry around a dictionary in my back pocket.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”

Daryl scoffed, “I know, but I don’t understand… Nevermind.  Forget it.”

“I know you care-”

“Maybe I care too much.  Maybe if I didn’t, then…” He shook his head, and stood up.  He took to pacing across the small living room, in front of the fire.  Carol watched him as he did so, her blue eyes roving over him as his hands clenched tight and loosened repeatedly.  He shook the hair from his eyes, glaring angrily at the floor as he walked off this… feeling of frustration and failure that so plagued him.  

He hadn’t even noticed that Carol had stood up from her seat until he nearly ran her down with his angered pacing.  Her feet came into view and he halted his tread.  Her fingers pushed the hair out of his eyes, and slid down his shoulder and over his heart.

“You okay?” She asked, looking into his eyes, stepping minutely closer, her hand not straying from it’s place over his heart.

“No,” the sound drawn out in annoyance, “no better than you are.”

“Come ‘ere,” she went up on her toes wrapping her arms gently around his neck, cupping the back of his head just as he had done to her a time or two.

“I’m supposed to be comfortin’ you,” his voice protested, but he melted into her touch, his arms wrapping around her ribs and pulling her closer.  She rested her cheek against his collarbone, and he kissed the top of her head.  

“You are… more than you know.  We can comfort each other, it doesn’t have to be so one-sided, you know.”

Daryl hummed, and leaned his cheek against her head, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo.  He let his body relax against her, just drinking in the feel of her.  Until his stomach betrayed him and let out an audible growl.  He felt Carol’s quiet giggles before he heard them, and he chuckled quietly with her.

“You in a rush to get back anywhere?”

“You inviting me to dinner?”

“You don’t need an invite with me, ever.  It’s just a given,” leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

“Then why’d you leave us all behind like that?”

Carol sighed, pulling back from him, but her arms still on his, not completely breaking the connection.  “I’m tired of all the killing… I know it’s necessary sometimes, I know it.  I just.... I can’t. Not anymore.”

“Nothin’ I can do to change your mind about goin’ back?”

Carol’s eyes darted between his own.  It was a loaded and heavy question, it wasn’t a simple request for her to return, friend to friend.  No, this was more.  It was love, it was family, it was… a new threat?  Daryl never asked for more than he needed, never asked for more than what was absolutely necessary when it came down to their group.  You give what you can give, but you never take. You need to preserve the excess for those trying times, be prepared and ever at the ready.

“What’s happened?”

“That Negan fella… it’s more than we can do alone.  Hilltop, the Kingdom… we need every able body.  I wouldn’t ask if-.”  Carol put a finger to his lips.

“I can’t promise anything.  I can’t… I can’t give you a yes or now right now.  I need some time to think on it.  How soon?”

She pulled the finger away, allowing him to answer.  “Need to rally the troops, so to speak.  Still in the planning stages but we want to act soon and fast.”

With a trembling sigh, she nodded.  Her lips pressed thin, stepping away from him she walked to the corner by the fireplace and picked up a crossbow that she had found during her scavenging.  Picking it up, she held it in her hands, feeling the familiar weight of it from having used it herself to get rabbit and squirrel.  Living on fruits and vegetables alone from the kingdom was not enough, and hunting got her out of the confines of her new home.  Turning toward Daryl, she held it out to him.  

“I prefer a gun, personally.  But this fits you.  Take it?”

Daryl hummed, taking the crossbow into his hands.  It was not the same as the one Dwight had stolen from him, but similar enough as most crossbows were.  It held an array of bolts, and included a strap to carry it over his shoulder.  He had missed his weapon, this would fill that empty space inside and bring back some of that ‘oomph’ he had been eluding him.   His lips twitched in a smile, “Not bad…”

“Take it.”  She insisted, her tone making the decision final.

“What ‘bout you?  You got what you need if-”

“Mm-hm, handgun.  Rifle.  Ammunition.  Ezekiel sends supplies as well.  I’m well armed, even if I don’t need to be.”

“You do,” Daryl frowned.  “Don’t matter if it’s a walker or a friendly face.  Can’t trust nobody.”

“Not even you?” She teased, walking to the doorway of the kitchen.  

“Stop.”  Putting the crossbow back down, he leaned it against the wall, his hands alighting on his hips.

“Hungry?”

Daryl’s stomach gave another grumble, answering her question.  

“Come on, got a stew that’s too much for one person.  Let’s eat.  I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”

“Me neither,” he sighed, reaching out to run the pad of his thumb down her arm.  “Me neither.”


End file.
